


Warming Hearts and Hearths

by StarSpray



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Hobbits, The Long Winter, The Shire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:06:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26800360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpray/pseuds/StarSpray
Summary: The first time Gandalf comes to the Shire it is winter, and a bad one.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Warming Hearts and Hearths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



"And then there was the Shire-folk. I began to have a warm place in my heart for them in the Long Winter, which none of you can remember."  
\- Gandalf, _Unfinished Tales_ , 'The Quest of Erebor'

.

**Third Age 2758  
(Shire Reckoning 1158)**

The cold rolled into Eriador suddenly and early, dug in its heels and refused to leave, like an unwanted guest unable to take a polite hint. The harvests took a terrible hit under the early frost, and the talk of the pubs swiftly changed from bemoaning the poor pipe weed crop to serious discussions on how they were to make the food last until spring—which was to come late.

That was the winter that Gandalf first blew into the Shire, arriving in the Northfarthing on a gusty day, one hand gripping his staff and the other clamped atop his head to keep his wide-brimmed hat in place. It didn't work very well, and the hat went flying away, tumbling through the air like a very clumsy bird until it caught on a hedgerow outside one of the biggest holes in Long Cleeve, where it was retrieved by a pair of very small hobbit children, one of which could almost fit entirely inside the hat as they ran inside with it, giggling all the way.

That was how Gandalf made the acquaintance of the famous Bandobras Took, who chased the goblins out of the Shire at the Battle of Greenfields, where he cut off the goblin chief Golfimbul's head and won the battle and invented golf all in one stroke—a tale he was extremely fond of telling, and which Gandalf was extremely interested in listening to. The small hat-thieves were Bandobras' youngest children Adelia and Baldric, and since it took until supper time to convince them to give it back, Gandalf ended up eating with the Tooks and spending the night in their guest bedroom. The bed was only slightly too short, but he had slept in far more uncomfortable places, and the mattress was soft and the blankets were warm.

In the morning the conversation was more serious. Not only was there a shortage of food in the Shire this year, there was a shortage of fuel. There were only so many trees that could be cut down, and only so many able-bodied men able to brave the temperatures to do it. "We must take a cart of firewood down to old Widow Bramble," Bandobras' wife Lela was saying firmly as Gandalf ducked into the kitchen, following the smell of toasting bread. "Or better yet, let's bring her and Daisy here to stay. We have the room, and then everyone saves on firewood."

It was agreed upon, and Bandobras set off with his eldest son Hildibras in their cart to fetch the elderly Widow Bramble and her young granddaughter Daisy, whose parents had been among the first victims of the cold.

Gandalf stayed only long enough to see them return, and then set off again. His intention had been merely to pass through the Shire and to go on to Lindon to visit Círdan. It had been a very long time since he had spent much time west of the Misty Mountains, and he found that he rather missed the Sea, which he had not seen since he had stepped off of the ship that had brought him out of the West. But as he walked south toward the town of Hobbiton, he felt Narya heavy on his finger. Círdan had been very insistent, pressing the ring into Gandalf's hands, that Gandalf and not he was the best bearer for it, to _rekindle hearts in a world that grows chill._ Yes, those had been his words. Gandalf had only rarely used Narya, thus far in his travels. He did not want to grow dependent upon it. But the world had grown chill indeed, and it was not only hearts that needed kindling there in the Shire, but hearths as well.

In the end, Gandalf did go to Lindon, but only to the border so he could find someone to send a message to Círdan, asking for help for the Shire. Lindon was as hard hit by the Long Winter, as it would come to be known, as the rest of Eriador, but wagon fulls of grain and dried fruits and dried fish came trundling into Hobbiton and Michel Delving from beyond the Tower Hills, to the surprise of everyone. It was not enough, but every little bit helped. And Gandalf himself was not enough, being only a single wizard, but he went about the Shire introducing himself and quietly placing his hands on stores of firewood and on hearthstones, humming softly to himself as he did to make the wood burn longer and warmer, where he could. He also helped plug up drafty holes and houses, and distracted hobbit children from their chilblains with silly conjuring tricks.

Through it all he was very impressed by the hobbits of the Shire. They rallied around one another admirably, though many of them died of cold or hunger or the illnesses that came after. It was a peaceful little realm, and by the time he was prepared to leave them to their own devices he had made many friends, particularly among the Tooks of Long Cleeve and of Tuckborough. As a parting gift, the Thain Fortimbras gave him a pipe cleverly carved with flowers and leaves, and a satchel of pipe-weed—a very great gift, from dwindling stores. Young Hildibras Took begged to go with him to catch a glimpse of the Sea, but his mother would not hear of us. Bad enough that Bandobras rode around on a horse instead of a proper Shire pony, and knocked the heads off of goblins with wooden clubs—she would not have her young sons heading off into the blue on mad adventures. So Gandalf departed alone, and finally reached the Grey Havens by Midsummer, when the last of the winter's chill had departed to leave behind bright hot sunshine that sparkled on the sea foam.

.

Gandalf paused and blew a smoke ring up and over the stern of the ship, where it was scattered by the mist rising from their wake. In the distance a pod of dolphins was frolicking, leaping up out of the water and chattering at one another and at the ship as it sped along its course toward the Straight Road, and the Uttermost West. With him sat Frodo, on a coil of rope, and Bilbo, with a blanket tucked snugly around his knees.

"Did Hildibras ever go west of the Tower Hills?" Frodo asked, directing the question more at Bilbo than at Gandalf.

"I never heard that he did," said Bilbo, "but of course I never knew Hildibras, that was a bit before my time. Now my Uncle Isengar…"

"Hildibras did go all the way to the Havens," said Gandalf. "I know because I was with him—it was after he came of age, of course, and his mother couldn't object. I'm not sure she ever knew—she thought he was spending the summer in Tuckborough. It was the first proper hushing up of an adventurous Took, that I recall. Or at least the first that I was involved in."

Frodo laughed. "And that is why they call you a disturber of the peace! But I wish you had told us this earlier. No one remembers how much you aided the Shire during that Long Winter, and I could have put it in our book."

"I mentioned it to Pippin," said Gandalf. "Not in detail, of course—we were talking of something else. But it doesn't bother me that no one remembers. I think it's rather more fun to be remembered for my fireworks, and of course for stealing you and your uncle away." He puffed on his pipe. It was well-worn now, from many years of use, but if you looked closely you could see the faint outline of delicately carved flowers around the bowl.


End file.
